#I have multiple ideas piling in my head rn... my hand needs to keep up the pace

[nuggies69]

I treat genji too much like a princess and designed his unmasked face to my liking. This must change (not must) (I really like designs where the mouth/lips are damaged) (this is still me babying him)

Recently someone on twitter was also (affectionately) roasting Ramattra's face and I was inspired.

(oughh pls note I have a severe case of Ramattra x Genji brainrot so even tho some drawings aren't 100% shippy, I hc they've gotten over the hostile stage and is now in a weird middle ground....... situationship..... hehehe)

[malfoysstilinski]

flower crowns | draco malfoy

draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: it’s the first sunny day of the year and you want to spend it outside with draco. he wants to make you a flower crown.

a/n: shout out to everybody else in the uk rn that’s had to deal with this shitty weather since september and is now in a third lockdown :))) these are the vibes we all need rn i think

It felt as though it hadn’t been sunny in years. You were used to the bleak weather that Britain provided nearly all year round, but it didn’t stop you from jumping out of your bed as soon as you saw nothing but sunshine peeking through the high windows of your dorm room.

“It’s sunny!” You gasped, “Oh, Merlin— Hannah, please tell me it’s as warm as it looks outside!”

Hannah Abbott glanced up from her book where she’d risen early. “I think so. It’s been getting warmer all week.”

You squealed, your roommates exchanging glances with each other as you rushed into the bathroom to get ready for your Saturday off from classes. You did have homework that needed to be done, but it could wait. You were not wasting the first nice day cooped up in the castle.

After showering and changing into one of your favourite summer dresses, you bounded back into the dormitory room and found your friends all slowly starting to get ready for the day.

“Anyone fancy going down to the Black Lake?” Susan Bones asked, “I heard a bunch of the Gryffindors are going down if the weather turned out nice today and Ernie mentioned joining them.”

A chorus of excited replies came from everybody else, but you smiled politely.

“I’ll have to ask Draco what he wants to do. He doesn’t really get along much with some of the Gryffindors,” you said, applying some makeup and then slipping on your shoes.

Hannah huffed. “Fine. I don’t know what you see in him, Y/N. You’re way too soft for someone like Draco Malfoy.”

Raising your eyebrows, you smiled. “There are many sides to Draco you’ve never met. I can assure you that there are billions of reasons why I’m with him.”

None of the girls said anything as you bid them a farewell before pulling open the door to your dorm. Wandering through the bright common room, which seemed to thrive with the sunshine pouring through it, you waved and greeted some of your peers, the smell of sunscreen filling your nose and making you excited.

You bounded through the corridors of the castle, saying ‘hi’ to Ron, Harry, and Hermione as you passed them. They seemed slightly taken aback by the bounce in your step, Hermione hitting Ron before he could make some sort of sarcastic comment.

You made it down into the dungeons, finding the bare wall you’d come used to staring at. Whilst a huge majority of the school would never be able to catch a glimpse of the Slytherin common room, as the girlfriend of Draco Malfoy, you’d been given the password and was updated of the change fortnightly.

Whispering the new one, you were thrilled when it opened to reveal the green and silver room. It was much darker and drearier than the Hufflepuff common room, perfect for when you were in a cozy mood, but today wasn’t one of those days.

“Hey, Y/N,” Blaise greeted you as he looked up from the leather couch. “Draco’s in the dorm room.”

“Thanks, Blaise!” You replied, waving to Pansy and Theo as you walked by them, making your way to the fifth year boys’ dorm.

You knocked once before you entered, finding it empty. You frowned as the door closed softly behind you, but your ears pricked upon hearing the steady rushing of water coming from the attached bathroom.

You settled down onto Draco’s bed, eager for him to hurry up in the shower so you didn’t have to waste anymore time inside. Who knew how long the good weather was going to last for? British spring was unpredictable— tomorrow it could go back to jumper weather and stay like that for weeks, with nothing to do but watch the rain drip drip drip.

Water dripped from Draco’s broad shoulders as he finally left the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his torso. He looked gorgeous— in platinum hair soaked and pale skin slightly flushed from the temperature of the water. His face lit up when he saw you on his bed.

“Let me guess,” Draco hummed, “You want to spend the day outside?”

“Please?” You sent him the same very pout that always allowed you to get your way with him.

Outsiders often believed that Draco was as cold as ice and as hard as steel, that, even for you, he would never be soft. However, it seemed like only you, him, and his friends knew the truth-- all you had to do was breathe and Draco was putty in your hands. You could probably ask him to jump off of the Astronomy Tower and he’d just ask if you wanted him to do a run-up or not. 

He tried to keep up his tough exterior around you at first, but with every laugh that escaped your lips, every excited gasp you gave when you learned something new, Draco felt his walls crumbling and he had to admit that he was hopelessly in love with you. Soft Draco was your favourite Draco, and it was the one he had reserved for you and you only. 

When people teased you, whether it be for your naive nature or because they were taking your kindness for granted, Draco was always the first to defend you. He’d ended up in countless detentions for hexing multiple other students who even looked at you wrong. You were his sunshine and he swore to preserve you and keep you safe from any harm. Even if he was your opposite.

“Fine,” he sighed as if it was a chore, but the corner of his lips twitched up at the idea of spending the entire day whilst you were out in your favourite weather.

“Hurry up and get dressed then,” you said, bending down to reach into his trunk and chucking him some clothes.

Draco caught them, sending you a look. “You sure? We could just stay here all day, I could just wear this...”

He watched you blush and shake your head. “Another time. Right now, it’s sunny-- so we have to go outside.”

Draco didn’t bother delaying you anymore. He knew you’d been hoping for good weather for a long time now. It felt like you hadn’t seen sunshine since the very start of September, and now it was early April. The cold, dark evenings always got you down a little unless you were wrapped up warm in the arms of Draco.

Within a few minutes, he’d dried off and chucked on the clothes that you’d thrown at him, slipping his shoes whilst you practically bounced up and down on your heels by the door. As soon as he was done, you grasped his hand and tugged him away. 

“Can we pick somewhere with a bit of shade?” Draco asked once you’d made it out onto the fields, finding multiple other students who had the same idea as you two. “I don’t want to burn.”

A group of first year Gryffindors ran by, nearly knocking Draco over. He let go of your hand and went tug out his wand, his nose scrunched up in disgust, when you grabbed his wrist.

“Draco!” You scolded him, “You don’t need to hex the eleven-year-olds for nearly knocking you over.”

He huffed, rolling his eyes. “They should watch where they’re going. I would have only done a tripping hex, anyway.”

Shaking your head at your boyfriend, you felt his slender fingers intertwine with yours once again and he led the way this time. It felt surreal to be outside without having to stuff your hands in your pockets or complaining about rain water seeping through the small hole in the sole of your school shoes.

“Here.” Draco stopped beneath a tree and settled down, his back against the trunk. 

“I’m going to sit in the sun,” you said, moving a few feet away so you were no longer under the shade.

Draco knew you wanted to make the most of it on your skin. He saw it glow on your shoulders, light up your hair and relax your mind as you lay down on the grass, nose pointing towards the sky. He smiled, simply watching you from the shade. 

He grabbed the book he’d managed to pick up before you’d forced him out of his dorm room, burying his face in it for a few moments as you sighed happily, sunbathing nearby. He’d glance up every now and then and become distracted by your beauty, his brain having to force his eyes back down to the pages in front of him. 

Eventually, he gave up, settling the novel beside his legs and moving over. He found you lying on your stomach, plucking daisies out of the grass and arranging them into a pile next to you. 

“What are you doing?” Draco asked, lying beside you, facing the sky. 

“You’ll burn,” you protested, “You wanted to be underneath the shade, Draco--”

“I don’t care,” he murmured, “Just let me be next to you for a bit, yeah?”

You smiled softly, shaking your head a little as you blushed. Draco turned his head to continue watching what you were doing. He saw that once you had a pile of maybe twenty or so daisies, you began to pick them up one by one before piercing a hole through the long stems with your thumbnail. 

He watched with furrowed brows, studying the way your hands delicately began to thread each daisy through another, tying a knot on the end so they couldn’t slip back through. He realised you were making a daisy chain, and quite a large one at that. Eventually, you closed it off and tied it back around to the first daisy. 

“What is it?” He stared at the circle of plants.

“A daisy crown,” you chirped, moving across and straddling him, his hands moving to your hips as you placed it on top of his head. “For my Prince of Slytherin.”

Draco grinned, reaching up to adjust it on his head. “How does it look?”

You beamed as you peered down at him. “You look like a dashingly handsome young prince.”

You leaned down and kissed his nose, watching his own cheeks blush a little. He managed to sit up, your body moving back a little so you were sat in his lap with your legs around his waist, one hand on you to adjust you and the other to keep his daisy chain on his head. 

You decided your words were nothing but the truth. He looked adorable with the white and yellow daisies in his platinum hair, which was fluffy from the shower he’d just had. He looked like the epitome of soft, his silver eyes melting as he stared at you in a mixture of complete adoration and love. 

His hands circled your waist and he managed to pull you even closer. Your sunscreen filled his nose, as well as the shampoo you wore, the sun beating down on the two of you as he moved to meet your lips in the middle. He hummed against you, enjoying the taste of your lip balm and the way you felt against him. 

One hand reached to stroke your cheek, the slightly calloused pad of his thumb brushing at your jaw. His lips worked against yours softly in an attempt to pour every inch of love and appreciation into you, his touch feeling like fire on your warming skin. You wished you could stay like this forever; just you, Draco, and the sun in the sky.

“If I’m the prince, I want to crown you my princess,” Draco murmured against your lips when he pulled away. 

“Do you know how to make a crown?” You asked.

“I can try,” Draco offered, “I watched you.”

Smiling, you climbed off of his lap and watched as he turned to look at the grass. He plucked a few more from the ground until he estimated that he had enough. Draco’s face scrunched up for a second. The boy was clearly deep in thought. 

“You pierce the stems next,” you whispered in his ear.

“I know, I know,” he played it off, grabbing one.

He inspected it for a few moments before trying to stab a hole through it with his thumbnail like you did. He groaned when it ripped all the way through, leaving him with half a stem. Draco tried again three more times before throwing his latest destroyed daisy to the grass in a fit. 

“I can’t make the holes!” Draco complained. 

“I’ll pierce them for you,” you suggested gently, “You pass them to me, and I’ll make the holes. Then you can tie them up as you go along.”

Draco didn’t reply but handed you your first daisy, watching intently as you made a hole with your nail and passed it to him. He grabbed another daisy and handed it to you and you did the same thing, and then he looped it through. 

“Good, now you need to tie it up,” you reminded him. 

Tongue poking out slightly, Draco did as you had said, creating a knot in the stem of the daisy. He grinned when it worked, his pearly whites on display as he practically threw it in your face.

“Look!” 

“Good-- you have one chain. Here’s your next daisy,” you beamed, passing him another with a hole in it.

Draco took longer than you had, his eyes focused and his nose scrunched in concentration as he created you your very own daisy crown to match his. When he was done, he sighed in relief but, overall, looked quite pleased with himself.

“Here you are, my love,” he murmured, placing it on top of your head. 

His fingers adjusted it and moved some of your hair out of the way so it sat perfectly. Draco moved backwards a little and smiled at the sight.

“How do I look?” You teased.

“Like the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid eyes on,” Draco promised breathlessly, kissing you hard on the lips again. 

You kissed him back. Maybe your roommates would never understand because they never saw this side of him, but this was one of the million reasons you loved Draco Malfoy.

[duskholland]

frat!tom inviting you to one of their ragers and all of his brothers trying to be a wingman for him bc they all know he’s had his eye on you the whole semester 😂 bc your friends would be like since when did you become friends with all these frat bros and you’re like idk what’s going on rn you’d be so confused lmao.

god this is such a cute idea...my heart. cw: alcohol + fluff.

finishing up some frat!tom blurbs !!

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

The first time it happens, you find it funny. The second, you feel a little uncertain but laugh it off. But the third time you’re approached by one of the fratboys hosting the party and offered a round of the house’s finest drinks, you can’t deny your complete bemusement.

“Since when did you become friends with so many frat bros?” Your friend, Val, whispers, clinging to your arm as one of the men, a shorter lad called Harry, dishes out shots to you and all of your friends. You accept one with a smile before dropping your voice.

“I didn’t,” you mutter. “I don’t understand what’s going on right now.”

You’ve barely done your shot when there’s a presence beside you.

“Y/N! Pleased you could make it.” You turn to see Harrison there, the vice-president of the frat. He’s in a SnapBack and a black T-shirt, smirking widely. “Do you and your friends want to come and play beer pong with us?”

You exchange a glance with Val, who giggles.

“Why not,” you agree.

You’re swept over to the large patio with a few of your friends, and you barely have time to process what’s happening before Harrison is claiming you as his partner and pulling you around to his side of the table. Val stands at the other end, and you watch, confused, as she asks one of the fratboys to partner with her, only for him to agree, look across the table and see you, then immediately shake his head and announce,

“Wait— no, I can’t. Stay here. One second.”

He runs away and Val raises a brow, but before you can speak to her, Harrison is poking at your arm.

“So,” he says, smirking softly. “How are you finding the party, Y/N? Anyone catch your eye?”

You furrow your brows, crossing your arms over your chest as you eye him carefully. You’ve not spent much time with Harrison before. Yes, you’ve been to a few parties together and played some games of truth or dare, but you’ve not developed such a deep connection that would warrant such attention. You find it suspicious.

“It’s a good party,” you agree, “though, I don’t think you guys have ever hosted a bad one.”

Harrison nods, pride reflecting in his eyes. “Well, thanks.” He digs his hands into his pockets. “It’s all Tom. He does all the planning and organising. He’s a great guy.” Harrison nudges you gently. “A really great guy.”

You start to wonder if the reason for your sudden catapult to centre of attention is more straightforward than you’d first thought.

“—Ahh, there he is, actually. What good timing.”

You look across the table, your breath hitching as your eyes fall upon the figure of Tom Holland, president of the frat, and your study partner from english lit. He looks good, wrapped up in a blue flannel and a black t-shirt, with a dark cap resting on his curls. His eyes seek yours out immediately and you raise a hand in greeting, feeling your lips twitch into a soft smile as he walks towards you.

“Y/N, darling!” Tom exclaims, greeting you with a hand on your hip and his lips on your cheek. “You look stunning tonight.” His fingers linger on your waist for a moment before he steps away, and his proximity grants you a deep whiff of his cologne.

“Thank you,” you reply, smiling shyly. “You look good too.”

“Thanks, love.” The tips of his teeth flint white as Tom beams at you. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come tonight. I’m glad you did.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Of course I would,” you say. You’d been overjoyed when he’d extended the invite to you, personally, and invited you and your friends to the biggest rager on campus. “I wanted to see you.”

It’s unclear if he’s blushing, or simply too warm, but you watch as Tom scratches the back of his neck and smiles almost shyly.

“I’m glad.” He clears his throat and his eyes flutter across the table, to where Harrison’s drifted around to stand beside Val. He nudges your arm, his elbow gentle. “Are you ready to win this?”

“Oh hell yeah. I was born ready.”

“That’s my girl.”

You feel your lips pull up, and try not to let him see the thrill that curls down your spine as you hear him speaking so affectionately to you.

The game goes by slowly, and you find yourself wondering how Harrison, usually so irritatingly good at beer pong, misses even the easiest of shots. If you didn’t know any better, you might be tempted to think he was trying to throw the game, yet Tom keeps you too busy to extensively ponder this thought. When you’re not on the receiving end of his smooth praises, you’re both listening to some of the fratbros who linger near, passing off compliment after compliment in Tom’s direction. They hype up almost every part of his person, pointing out, eagerly, and despite Tom’s obvious embarrassment, how good his grades have been, how he’s been learning to cook, how he’s a beast in the gym… Any positive to Tom that could be praised, is, and it leaves you smiling.

Much to your amusement, you end up winning the game. Once you’re suitably buzzed, you wave bye to Val and follow Tom back inside, his hand clinging to yours. You watch, amused, as the crowd seems to part for you, multiple pairs of eyes following you and the way your fingers are linked with Tom’s. Whispers follow you, and you find yourself clinging closer to him, curling your arm around his as you shy into his side.

Tom takes you upstairs. He’d pulled you from the patio whispering about a book he’d borrowed from you a month ago and needed to return, but you know that his intentions go beyond the return of a simple favour.

“This is a nice room,” you say. It’s large, and on the top floor of the frat. It’s also the room that comes without a suite mate, courtesy of Tom’s status as president. There’s a large window set into the wall, a nice double bed, and even an en-suite.

You feel his hand briefly touch you back as Tom moves past you and walks over to his desk. You watch him rummage through a pile of papers and pens, his watch glinting.

“Thank you,” he responds, looking back over his shoulder at you. His thin lips quirk into a smile as he inclines his head towards his bed. “You can sit down if you want.”

You hum as you walk towards the bed, perching on the edge of the mattress with your legs crossed. After a few moments more, Tom releases a noise of triumph and holds up the borrowed book.

“Here you go,” he says, walking over to you. He passes you the book, and you promptly put it down beside you. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“Of course,” you respond. You meet his eyes, getting momentarily lost in his caramel depths. “Hey, could I ask you a question?”

Tom nods, crossing his hands behind his back as he looks at you curiously. “Anything.”

You bite your lip before extending your hand towards him. When he takes it and easily loops your fingers together, you smile.

“Did you have all your frat brothers wingman you tonight?”

Tom hesitates, a hint of embarrassment curling over his face.

“You, uh, noticed that?” He asks, scratching at his neck.

You nod, smirking. “If the never ending supply of shots and compliments weren’t indication enough, Harrison also threw the game so we would win.”

Tom curses softly. “He’s such a twat,” he mutters. “But uh… Yeah, I guess. I just wanted you to have a good time tonight, Y/N. Some of them just took it a bit too far. I’m sorry if they made you feel uncomfortable.”

“They didn’t. I thought it was cute.” You hesitate, your eyes shifting over his face. “I think you’re cute.”

Tom shifts on his feet, seeming to stretch a little straighter as he smirks.

“And I think you’re absolutely gorgeous.” Using the hand intertwined with yours, Tom very gently helps you to your feet. His fingers slip down to your waist, where they rest, touch firm and warm. You like the feeling of being so close to him.

“So… What are you going to do about that?”

You bite your lip as his breath hitches, and then you let him pull you closer. His voice is lower, huskier, and it comes out lightly as his warm breath fans out across your face.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he declares.

You give him the slightest nod before looping your arms around his neck, and then very slowly, and easily, Tom presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first—carrying more care than you would’ve expected—but your eyes flutter shut as you enjoy the moment. It builds quickly, spiralling from a tender union of mouths to an intensely hot kiss, burning bright with passion as you feel him nibbling your lower lip. You part your lips, and your fingers dig into his curls as your tongues dance together, the kiss growing hotter and heavier as you curl in closer.

When you break away after a few moments of passionate kissing, you’re breathless but happy. You rest your palms on the flat of his shoulders and sigh contentedly, lips stinging softly.

“Next time you want to get closer to me, you can just ask me, y’know,” you tease. “I quite like spending time with you, Tom.”

His lips brush your cheek, and you feel him squeeze your waist.

“Noted, love.” He pauses for a moment, smirk biting at his lips. “Care to spend some time with me now, darling?”

You wrap your fingers around the top of his shirt and pull him closer, letting your lips brush over his as you smile.

“I think I’d like that very much.”

[evera6234]

Gotham’s Salty WIP: Chapter I

RATING: T (Teen for cursing and stuff, this may change)

SUMMARY: 

Basically, the typical Daminette with a bit of lime and spice. Borderline crack fic bc i cant without humor. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes to Gotham whilst carrying three years worth of emotional baggage, what she does with it, we don't know. Does she lug it around? Probably. Does she kick it off a skyscraper? Not probable, but maybe. Does she use it to drop kick an unsuspecting liar. Most definitely.                ~~~> EDITED BY OLLIETHETURTLE ON AO3

Transferred from AO3. 

Lemme know if ya wanna be tagged

OK. Umm.. First fic on AO3. K. We doin this, and we starting with this god awful piece of trash. Yes. Life. Fuck. 

Things ur signing up for:

Big boi Mari & Chloe Friendship Good Vibes TM

My ass shitting on Adrien bc im a salty bitch (and if u aint about that life, its ok. U can leave bc im not interested in fighting with people. No offence or disrespect to adrien stans but yea)

And Adrien stalker moments

Lila and Alya salt (plz see “im a salty bitch”)

Shitty update schedule, if any. I’m counting on yall to harass me to write.

Marinette & Jason “sibling-esque” relationship bc we all need that

An obscene amount of cursing (as you can already tell)

The class will not be  “Our singular communal brain-cell is fucking dead, help.” levels of dumb, but still “I have the IQ of a wet potato sack” levels of dumb.

Eventual negation of canon bc we live that life

“Espresso with a dash of Depresso” Moments TM

I'm originally an MLB fan. So do what you will with that info.

The good old “Ozmav AU” but with some lime and spice

As slow burn as I can

Mental Health stuff and the repercussions of having multiple identities treated completely differently

And the crown jewel of this entire fic… Auntie Harley and Ivy.

And….. sorry…. Ppl will kinda be OOC but im trying my very best. 

Tbh I have no idea where this going rn but... i mean… it going somewhere (specifically hell) because everything does. Leave ideas plz, don’t kill me. Just bully me. 

So yea. Lemme know what u want and if I want to, I might just squeeze it into the fic (if it fit ofc, im not just gonna add random 50 year time-lapses). I'll try my best ;)))) (<-- my quadruple chin)

~

Chloe’s head hangs heavy on Mari’s shoulder as the pressurised air surrounding them vibrates with the sounds… of well… a plane. Chloe had a tough couple weeks; late night combat practises with the new team (LB, Hornet, Viperion and Ryuuko) has obviously taken a toll on her partner. Both wrapped in a thick velvet blanket that Chloe remembered to pack (thank kwami) sharing a pair of headphones, both were lulled into a peaceful slumber.

Alya laughs as Lila tips her small glass of diet coke (that a flight attendant painstakingly poured for her) on a sleeping Marinette’s side of Chloe’s blanket, effectively waking her up. “Oopsies! Sorry Marinette! You see, the cabin air has really been worsening my arthritis. I didn’t mean it! I swear! Cross my heart!” apologized Lila with fake concern as Alya giggles beside her. 

Marinette, literally seeing Lila’s crossed figures behind her back says “At least Chloe is still sleeping, she needs the rest.” Alya, Lila and her empty cup saunter beck to their seats nearby. 

~

Mari and her class finally land in Gotham’s cold December night. Freshly hushed into a private shuttle, the class are driven to their hotel. It is late: around 3:30 AM. With heavy eyelids the class gazed out the bus’s windows in awe. The merging view of traffic and Christmas lights chase them to their residence. No one really remembers or knows what happened that night. Just the feeling of falling, be it into a white fluffy hotel comforter or into the crisp Gotham air. 

~

“Oh! My! Gosh!!!” hears Marinette as Lila on the bus to Wayne Enterprise. “I feel so. At. Home!” In Marinette’s tired ears, there were more exclamation marks. 

“Of course… The only thing that can inhabit Gotham alleyways are cockroaches and villains,” Chloe grumbles beneath her breath, looking out the window.

“What have I ever done to you Chloe?” Lila cries, “I understand why Marinette bullies me, she is a jealous and vile girl. But I thought you, Chloe, want to be a better person, not a bully like that bitch, Marinette!”

“How dare you. How dare you. HOW DARE YOU!” Chloe yells as the recent words loop in her mind, 

“Not gonna call your daddy, huh?” Alya taunts. 

Chloe, with tears in her eyes begins, but is quickly interrupted by Marinette, “No she will not. She doesn’t need to. Chloe grew a lot over the last couple months, I’m so proud of her. She doesn’t need your bitch-ass approval.” Marinette grasps Chloe’s hand which previously wrapped itself around the fabric of Chloe’s heavy caramel winter coat.

“Quiet on the bus!”, A yell came from the front.

“But, Mr. Bus Driver… Marinette is being a…”

“Shut it! Y’all want me to kamikaze this shit into a building? I’m guessing y’all value your lives so shut it!” 

“Ms.Guardian, can I please have a cookie?” Pollen softly asks from the inside of Chloe’s giant white faux leather handbag.

“Shh… Pollen! Now’s not the time!!!” stresses Tikki.

“Please Ms. Guardian!!! I’m so so so hungry. This bag isn’t very warm and it’s taking all my energy to keep warm. A lil blubber wouldn’t hurt…. please!!”.

“Of course Pollen,” quietly respond Mari with a grin, “Here you go.” She pulls out a couple cookies from a Tupperware and hands them to Pollen. “Please share them with Tikki,” whispers Marinette into the bag. 

Marinette and Chloe then hears two tiny “thank you”s followed by the sound that can only be described increasingly aggressive chomping. Both girls giggle quietly.

~

“Welcome to Gotham,” says an unenthusiastic man at the front desk. “Congratulations, you are…” He checks his computer. “On time? Interesting.”

“Yes, we are aware,” grumbles Mrs. Bustier, already done with the man’s attitude.

“Okay so before the tour starts I’m doing to need the student who set-up this field trip to sign a couple forms and stuff. Here ya go.” The man pushed a thicc pile of paper into the teachers hand. 

“Oooh! That would be me sir!” Lila chirped, intercepting the papers before skipping back to her posse of her’s. A few seconds after beginning to fill out paperwork Lila cries “Ouch! My wrist! My arthritis! Can someone help me filling out all these form.” 

“I’ll fill them out, I’m only going to need your signatures,” offered Max.

“Thank you Max, you are so sweet!” Lila complements. 

“Of course, your arthritis was badly affected by the altitude yesterday, you shouldn’t be staining your wrist so early!” Max blushed. 

“Maribug, you gonna to say something?” 

“Nah, just watch. Entertainment without a Netflix membership.”

[nastybuckybarnes]

Wicked Games  -  Four

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU

Summary: Everyone in the world has a soulmate. And until they meet that soulmate, everyone in the world stops aging at 25. Wrongfully accused of a horrendous crime and on the run, you happen to bump into the man who’s been avoiding you for the past seventy-five years.

Warnings: Language, Fluff? Rape and Abuse mentions

Word Count: 2.1K

A/n: I’m really tired rn and idk how good this chapter is. I just wanna write the spicy stuff lmao

MASTERLIST 1  2   3 Series Masterlist

~*~

“Eat.” You startle awake as a bowl of mush is tossed into your lap.

“Why?” You ask, not understanding why this cop hasn’t turned you in yet.

“Because if you don’t you’ll die,” he says matter-of-factly. You roll your eyes and struggle into a seated position in the bathtub. “It’ll kinda be hard to eat with my hands stuck behind my fucking back,” you snap, not bothering to try and stay on his good side.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs, leaning down and carefully uncuffing one of your wrists only to cuff it again in front of you. “Now eat. Then we talk.” You roll your eyes but scoop some of the mush up on your fingers and carefully bring it to your mouth, tasting it with the tip of your tongue then shovelling it into your mouth.

Bucky watches you with a disgusted look on his face as you scarf down the food.

“Why did you kill Rumlow?” He asks after a minute of you eating. You look up at him then back down to the bowl of food. “You’re not legally allowed to question me until I have a lawyer present,” you inform. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his thick chest. “I’m not in uniform. I’m asking you as the man who saved your life. Maybe the only man interested in actual justice and not revenge. If you’d tell me why you killed him this would all be so much easier.” You chew slowly then shake your head.

“I’ve learned not to trust cops,” is how you reply. It’s more than enough to clue Bucky in.

“C’mon. Get up. You’re gonna take a shower and get changed and then you’re gonna give me the reasons as to why you’ve been on the run this whole time. If you listen and you’re good, I’ll be able to help you. Got it?” You nod slowly, allowing him to carefully pull you to your feet.

“I’m gonna let you out of your cuffs and lock the door. Just know that I’ll be waiting outside with my taser and pepper spray, should you get any ideas about escaping. You’re stuck here with me. Towels are in the cabinet and there’s body wash in the shower somewhere. I do advise cleaning all this blood up first though.” he nods to the sticky substance coating the floor and walls of the bathtub. You nod and let him help you out of the tub.

“You have twenty minutes. There are no windows in here and only one door that I can lock from the outside. You have no way of getting out so don’t even try.” You slump your shoulders but nod again, rubbing your raw wrists after h takes the cuffs off.

“Twenty minutes start now.”

He leaves the bathroom and locks the door. After standing there for three minutes, you turn the water on as hot as it goes and let it wash away the blood dirtying the tub. Once the tub is clean you strip off your clothes and grab a facecloth from the closet. It takes a moment to find your courage, but you’re glad you do because the hot water feels absolutely incredible on your aching skin.

The pressure is perfect and cleans the mud, blood, and grime of the past few days right off of your skin.

You enjoy the warmth for a moment then get down to business; ignoring the pain in your wrists as you begin washing your body with the mahogany body wash.

You feel clean and refreshed, your hair finger-combed and washed with an expensive looking shampoo that smells like lilac.

Once you're finished you step out of the shower and wrap yourself in a fluffy white towel, looking around the room and pondering what to do next. You know you can’t escape, so there’s no point in trying.

Something inside of you is telling you to trust this cop. That he’s not like the others and he'll actually help you. He won’t be like Rumlow.

The still-prominent bruises and cuts all over your body remind you of just how awful Brock was, and you shudder.

“Are you decent?” He asks through the door, snapping you out of your haze. “I... you didn’t give me any clean clothes,” you say softly, afraid that he’ll take advantage of your vulnerable state.

“I know.” The door opens and you scream as he walks in, terrified and cowering in the corner. “Please don't! I-I’ll do anything! Please don't!” He freezes in his tracks, curses twice, then tosses a bundle of something at your feet and dashes out of the bathroom, locking the door behind himself.

You wait for a moment, tears streaming down your cheeks as your heart races, then end down and inspect the pile of stuff. He’s given you a t-shirt, a pair of boxers with the tags still on, and a pair of sweatpants that look three sizes too fucking gigantic.

Nevertheless, you put the clothes on then sit on the floor across from the toilet, your eyes focused on the door as you hear the lock click.

“(Y/n)... I... fuck. I won’t touch you, okay? Not... not like that. I won’t take advantage of you or anything. I promise. Okay?” You wipe your cheeks and watch as the door slowly opens. Bucky looks at you, all curled up in a ball on the floor, and his heart breaks.

“He touched you, didn’t he?” You don’t look up at him, nodding your head yes.

“(Y/n) I’m going to be very blunt with you now, you have to answer me truthfully because this will change the entire case. Did Brock Rumlow sexually assault you?” You nod once more, biting back a sob.

“Fucking Hell...” He trails off and scratches the nape of his neck. “I always knew he was a bad guy, but I never thought...” he looks at you then takes a deep breath. “Do you have any cuts or bruises from him?” You glare up at him and shake your head, not liking where this is going.

“I’ll stay right here. I just... I need to see them. It will make everything a lot easier for you.” You take a deep breath and carefully pull the shirt off, feeling embarrassed at being shirtless in front of this stranger. But some strange part of you is telling you that this is fine.

He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your torso.

Your ribs are darkened, stained with bruises from either cracks or full breaks to the bones. You have multiple deep cuts that look like they’ve been stitched together by a three-year-old, and other fading bruises that cover the rest of your body. Around your neck are still very prominent bruises in the shape of fingers, indicating that you’ve been choked, and he can see similar bruises on your hips.

“C-can I put it back on now?” You ask, your voice wavering. He nods and looks away as you pull the shirt back on.

“Jesus. Come out here. I’m gonna make you some tea and you’re gonna start talking, understand?” You nod your head yes and follow him out of the bathroom, fighting tears the whole way as you realize you’ll have to relive everything that awful man did to you.

~

Bucky’s quiet as he boils the kettle, mulling over everything he’s just found out.

You most likely killed Rumlow in self-defence, called the cops to tell them that, then hung up because you remembered that they probably won’t take your side over their dead buddy’s anyway.

He slides a steaming mug over to you and you stir in a spoonful of honey. “Thank you, officer.” He shakes his head at you. “James. My name is James.” You nod and keep your eyes down. “So he hurt you, huh?” You don’t answer, taking a sip of the hot beverage and trying to block out the painful memories.

“Well... this changes things. I’m almost thinking we should hand this case over to a different police department because ours is too personally attached to the case. But Pierce would never accept that. Fuck, this is a mess, isn’t it?” You nod, not looking up from the speckled grey countertop.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you. Relax. You’re safe here with me, I promise. Hell, this is the safest you’ll probably ever be. Nobody will hurt you here.” You nod skeptically and take another sip of tea, letting the liquid burn your tongue and throat on the way down.

“What’s gonna happen to me?” You can’t stop the words from slipping out, but he doesn’t seem to hate the question. “You’ll stay here for a little while. Get better while I see who at the station is open minded. Then... I don’t know.” You nod, biting your bottom lip.

“Do you know why he did that stuff to you?” He asks softly, wanting to figure out why on earth Rumlow would want to harm someone who looks so delicate and fragile. You look up into his eyes for a split second, displaying that you have information that he needs and wants, then look back down to your tea.

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything right away, but you will need to come clean and confess at some point. Okay?” you nod, understanding that much. “Good. Now I-” knocking on the door cuts him off and you snap your head up. “Buck? It’s me, Steve. Open up.” Your heart drops as you recognize the voice of one of the cops who chased you through Walmart.

“Go up the stairs into the first room on the right. It’s a guest bedroom that nobody ever goes in. Hurry!” You discard your tea and run as fast and as quietly as you can up the stairs and into the room, closing the door halfway and sitting on the floor, one hand covering your mouth as you try to slow your heart rate.

“Hey Steve,” James’ muffled voice says from downstairs.

“Thought I’d see how you were doing. You were pretty heated at work the other day and pretty distracted yesterday. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” That’s the second man, Steve.

“I’m... tired. Confused. Frustrated. I just want this case to solve itself. I mean, it doesn’t make sense for her to just kill him, there must’ve been a reason. And there was clearly a fight between the two fo them. What if she was the victim but got the upper hand somehow? What if he's been abusing her this whole time and she finally had enough?”

Steve whistles, “you’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?” You hear James sigh. “Yeah. I’ve had to. I don’t want to send an innocent person to jail, Steve. There’s just so much we’re missing from the story and I want to have it all figured out already.” You hear them moving around below you.

“I’m sure we will, Bucky. But it’s gonna take time and patience. But we'll figure this out. I promise.”

You hear someone sigh again. “I just... what if she’s hurt? What if Rumlow... what if it’s him who’s the bad guy in all of this and she’s just.... innocent?” You hold your breath as you wait for Steve’s response.

“Then we’d better find her and help her.”

~

The door gets slowly pushed open and you watch as James walks in. He sits down across from you on the floor and stares at you.

“Steve’s gonna be seeing who at the station is open-minded, and from there we’ll decide what to do. If things are really rough, we might send you to a different. police station to confess. But until then you’re gonna be staying here with me. I’m the only one who knows you’re here and I’d like to keep it that way.”

You stare at him as he stands up and offers you his hand, hesitating for a moment before putting your hand in his and letting him pull you to your feet.

The feeling of his skin against yours sends a spark of electricity racing down your spine, a shiver of pleasure following right after it.

His eyes widen for the briefest of moments and you swear you see genuine fear in them, your own eyes widening as warmth spreads from where your hands are touching.

He drops your hand quickly then motions for you to follow him out of the room, leading you back downstairs to the kitchen to grab a snack and finish your tea.

~

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